Painful truth
by DU-muc
Summary: A young man walking with a cane shows up in the clinic. While he deals with his own drama he gets annoyed by House who tries to find out the reason for his limp and Wilson sees a chance to teach his friend a lesson about pain management. Story plays around season six, so Cuddy is still around. Rated T for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own any character in this story**

* * *

****At the "soon to be the patient's" place:

Sam tried to unlock the door but his hands were shaking and so he had trouble finding the right key. Finally he was successful and limped down the corridor as fast as possible.

"Andrew! Where are you? You are late!", he yelled angrily and entered his guestroom.

There he found him lying in the bed face down. The floor was covered with clothes, dirty plates and empty beer bottles. The smell alone indicated that he had drunk too much last night, again.

Now Sam got angry.

"I don't believe it! How could you get drunk? It's the day of his funeral. He was your brother, too. And you got nothing better to do than getting drunk?"

Andrew moaned and opened his eyes.

Sam shook his head. "I've had it with you. I can't do this anymore."

"I'm sorry", his brother mumbled and sat up to find his first cigarette of the day.

He looked awful and his dizzy head was no help at all.

Sam had tears in her eyes. It was always the same story with Andrew.

He had lost track early on in his life. When Sam had been nine their father had left the family to start a new life with his girlfriend in Canada. But he had never missed him. He had often been violent and had treated his kids like shit. Their mother had worked in three jobs to pay their bills. But when Sam was 14 she had died in a car crash. At this time his brother Andrew had already been in constant trouble. He had dropped out school and had already developed a drinking problem. Usually he had worked in a low paid job for a couple of weeks before he got fired. Michael, their oldest brother had taken care for Sam after their mother's death and made him finish school. He had insisted on him going to college. Sam always had part time jobs to support him. Michael had also tried to support Andrew but finally he had given up on him.

Nowadays Sam was working as a teacher at Princeton High School teaching biology and chemistry. Every now and then Andrew would show up at his door asking for a place to stay for a couple of days. He would occupy his guestroom, ransack the fridge and steal his money. Five days ago they had received the news of their brother's death and Andrew had once more moved in with his little brother. Two cops had shown up in Sam's school and informed him about his brother's accident. Sam caught himself wishing that it was Andrew but when the officer told him it was Michael it had pulled out the rug from under his feet.

Today was his funeral and Sam had instructed Andrew to get in decent shape. He had spent the last days at a friend's house since he couldn't see Andrew any longer. When he had not shown up at the funeral home this morning he was actually not surprised and knew immediately where to look for him.

Now he looked down at his brother. He was three years older but Sam had been taking care for him all the time. And he was fed up with it.

"I wish it was you lying in that coffin", he said sadly and was about to leave the room.

Suddenly he heard him throwing up and turned around. Andrew retched and spit out in a poor try to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. Then he fell back on the mattress and sighed.

"Maybe I'm already on my way there", Andrew mumbled and wiped his mouth.

But Sam didn't listen to him. He looked at the puddle of vomit. Either his brother has had too much strawberry lime last night or he was vomiting blood.

"We've got to get you to the hospital", he decided and put down his cane in order to help him sit up.

He shook his head. "No insurance", he mumbled.

Sam sighed. Of course not.

"But you've got to see a doctor. We'll go to that free clinic over in Plainsboro. Don't worry about the bill."

He handed him a clean t-shirt and helped him up. After a stressful struggle they were finally in his car and Sam drove to PPTH.

* * *

In the very same hospital a certain doctor was busy avoiding his clinic duty. But since his boss had a very sharp eye on him concerning that matter she had finally dragged him away from his TV and right into the clinic. Now House was sitting in exam room two handing over the third prescription for flu medication this afternoon. And no, it was no problem that this moron teenage girl had just sneezed on him. Damn it!

"Oh, I'm so sorry, doctor!", she mumbled and searched for a napkin in her purse.

House looked pissed. "Don't worry. It was my own fault!", he told her, ripped the napkin from her hands and wiped his face.

She looked confused. "Why would it be your fault?"

"Because I was stupid enough to come into a clinic full of morons who don't know the first thing about hygienic and disease transmission."

He got his cane and was out of the room a few seconds later.

House banged the file on the nurse's counter. "Ok, I'm out of here. See you guys next week", he announced.

"No, you are not. You've just been here for half an hour. Oh and FYI you got two more clinic hours this week!", Cuddy told him and shoved another file into his hands.

House rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, Cuddy. How long do we have to play this game until you realize it's just a waste of my talents treating all these sniffels!"

"Not until you realize that it is a waste of both our times. Instead of arguing with me all the time you could have treated another patient already", she told him and sent him on his way.

"That argument would only work if you would force me to treat a certain number of patients in here. But you only tell me to stay for two hours. Whether I treat one or ten patients isn't important, I'll just walk out of here at the end of my shift."

Cuddy looked irritated for a moment before her facial expression turned into a smirk.

"Good thinking, House. I think we'll make a change concerning your work in the clinic. How about ten patients a shift? No, wait. You're the expert on diagnosis. Let's make it 20."

House cocked his head. "You do know what you are enabling here, right?" He pointed at the waiting room. "Diagnosing 20 morons will give me a free pass out of here? Hmm, I wonder if I'm the kind of doctor who would neglect the appropriate contribution if it gets me out of here sooner?"

He rubbed his hands. "Let's find out right now. Do you mind taking the time? I'm competitive and maybe I can beat my own time next week."

He took his cane and was ready to go but Cuddy held him back.

"Ok. I get it. Maybe we should keep the old system."

"The one where I make you angry so you yell at me giving me an opportunity to inspect your hot cleavage?", House smirked.

Cuddy rolled her eyes but had trouble to suppress a smile. "Go treat a patient. Now!", she gently sent him on his way and went back to her office.

* * *

In the meantime Sam was busy filling in some forms he had received from the nurse. Andrew sat next to him and felt really horrible.

"List all drugs you've taken recently", he could read now and looked at his brother.

"Pump his stomach and tell me!", he wrote down and went on with the next question. He didn't realize the weird guy with the cane who observed him while taking a pill.

After his discussion with Cuddy House had scanned the waiting room and felt once more like in hell. There was a boring nose bleed, a disgusting looking rash, some more colds and there was obviously a broken ankle wrapped up in an ice pack. But wait a second, what was that?

He looked at a young man sitting right next to a man who was apparently fighting his hangover. The interesting thing about him was the obvious absence of a grandfather, no visible injury on his leg but the presence of a cane.

House cocked his head and screened him for a moment. Could be interesting. So he walked over and stood right in front of him.

"You are next!", he told him. Sam looked up.

"I'm not done with this form yet", he told him.

House shrugged. "That's not necessary anyway since nobody will look at it."

Sam saw that the guy was obviously very interested in his leg since he couldn't get his eyes off it. He didn't miss the fact that he was dependent on a cane, too.

"So, you are a doctor?", Sam asked him now.

House rolled his eyes.

"Look, you can either see a scruffy doctor right now or you wait for one in a lab coat. Given the number of sick people in here it will take about two hours", House explained.

Sam gave it a thought and finally he nodded. "Alright. Thanks"

He turned to his brother. "Come on, it's your turn."

Now House looked confused. "Wow, wait a second. Who's the patient here?"

Sam smirked. "Maybe you should read that form sometimes. It's my brother."

House didn't care for the guy. Probably just too much booze the night before.

"What's wrong with your leg?", he asked directly now. Sam smirked.

"I'm rather interested in what's wrong with his stomach. He vomited blood only an hour ago."

House smiled. "How about you tell me all about your leg in exchange for a physical exam for your brother?", he offered.

Sam nodded. "It's a deal. Right after you fixed him I'll share my secret with you."

House signaled Andrew to follow him and they vanished into exam room two. Only five minutes later the doctor came out and approached the nurse to give her some orders. He also made some notes in the file and came back over to Sam where he took the empty seat right next to him.

The young man was lost in his thoughts and didn't notice the limping doctor at first.

"So, where were we?", House started while unwrapping a red sucker. "Oh right, you were about to tell me about your leg. Go ahead."

Sam looked at him worried and a little confused.

"What's wrong with Andrew?"

House shrugged. "No idea. But I ordered some tests and had him admitted. Which brings us back to our originally topic. Your leg."

Sam shook his head. "We had a deal."

"Yeah, and I kept my part."

"No you didn't. I said you have to fix him not just take a look at him and let the lab or some nurse do the rest of the work."

House pursed his lips. "Maybe I should introduce myself finally. My name is Greg House and I'm very good in my job. My best friend thinks that has something to do with my obsession about things. Probably he is right because it makes me working through nights and to take roads most doctors wouldn't even consider because they are unethical or simply illegal. Unfortunately, if my obsession focuses on the wrong things like let's say a young man with a cane it can get really counterproductive since I can't concentrate on my actual case. So what I'm saying is, tell me about your leg if you want your brother to come out of this alive."

"So it is really serious? He could die?", Sam was really shocked now.

House didn't answer but kept checking out Sam's right leg. He got the hint and sighed annoyed.

"I had knee surgery a couple of weeks ago. I exchanged my crutches with this cane in order to have at least one free hand."

"So you rather walk around with grandpa's cane?", House wondered.

Sam got annoyed. He was not in the mood for this. His brother was sick while they missed their other brother's funeral. Wrong day for that smart ass and his dumb questions.

"Look, if you need some cripple therapy group, I'm sure they offer them somewhere around here. I don't have time for this. So will you tell me about my brother or not? Maybe you are a good doctor but you really suck as a human being."

House cocked his head for a moment. Then he smirked.

"This leg won't heal, will it?"

"Of course it will. Couple of weeks and everything will be fine."

The diagnostician shook his head. "You just called me a cripple. Only cripples would do this. Other people don't have the guts."

"Or I just want to insult you since I'm really getting annoyed. Are you sure it's just your leg that's messed up?", Sam asked. House just stared at him and Sam lowered his head finally.

"Fine. The offer still stands. Save my brother and I'll tell you everything. And don't waste your time searching for my patient file. I wasn't treated here!"

House agreed and went to meet with his team to run a ddx.

* * *

What House didn't see was that his best friend had observed the scene between him and the young man. When House was out of sight Dr. Wilson attended the nurse at the counter and asked for the file of House's last patient. He was worried that House might get distracted by the brother's leg.

The fact that House had admitted Andrew as his patient although even the oncologist could diagnose him within a minute confirmed his assumption. Usually House wouldn't even think about his latest patient after the puzzle was solved.

"Please hurry up, Dr. Wilson. We have to get this file to the diagnostics department", the nurse approached him now.

"Oh don't worry. I'll deliver it myself. After all it's right around the corner from my office, isn't it?"

"Thank you, Dr. Wilson", the nurse told him and attended the next file in front of her.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Reviews are welcome. :-)


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Wilson arrived on the fourth floor House's team was already discussing the case. Since they missed the actual case file House had written down the symptoms on the white board.

Wilson entered without knocking and slammed the blue folder on the table.

"You want to meet me in your office or do you want to explain this right here in front of everyone?", he asked House.

House turned around and shrugged. "I don't mind the company. See, Jimmy, when a mummy loves a daddy they usually vanish into their bedroom and…."

"HOUSE!", Wilson interfered. "What are you doing? The guy doesn't need a diagnosis, he needs a new kidney. There is no mystery in this case except for his brother."

Now the team was interested and focused on the conversation.

House seemed uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. "Yeah, and kidneys just stop working one day. There is certainly no underlying cause. I mean maybe it could help that I got a specialty in nephrology, who knows", House said in his sarcastic tone.

Wilson nodded. "Ok, you world class nephrologist. How comes you didn't even order a simple tox screen? Afraid of finding an answer for the patient before you get all the answers you want from the brother?"

House looked pissed. "And why are you so upset about it? You told me I should deal with my problems. Sharing thoughts with other crip…, handicapped people could actual help me."

"I'm worried about him. He deals with a dying brother. Leave him alone. You can annoy him after you saved the patient. Then he will be grateful and tell you everything you want to know."

"Great idea. If only I could concentrate on my job, but there is this oncologist who's driving me nuts with his advices", House snapped.

Wilson raised his hands to signal his surrender. "Alright, I'm out of here. Be patient for once, House. You'll get your answers", he told his friend and left.

House tried to avoid the questioning looks on his fellow's faces.

"Taub, go and run a tox screen. Rest of you go and figure out if there's any chance to save his kidneys. I'll be getting a decent family history."

* * *

Sam was sitting in his brother's room. Andrew didn't look too good.

"What did you do last night?", Sam asked him.

Andrew looked ashamed. "I can't remember. I'm so sorry I ruined the funeral for you."

"You should have been there, too. After all he was your brother."

"I'm your brother. And just two hours ago you wanted me dead", Andrew rejected.

"I was angry at you because I thought you were just hungover. I'm sorry."

They were interrupted by Taub, Foreman and Chase.

"Sorry, we have to run some tests. Maybe you should wait outside", Foreman said after they had introduced themselves.

Sam nodded and got his cane. He didn't miss the doctors' questioning looks that followed him and especially his leg while he crossed the room. "See you later, Andi!", he said and smiled at him.

The smile vanished from his face immediately when he saw that nut job doctor standing outside the room. He stopped and turned around.

"What is it with that guy?", he asked and pointed at House.

"That's our boss. He's a jerk but he's a very good doctor", Chase explained.

"So why is the genius doctor outside and you guys –no offence- are in here treating my brother? I'd prefer it the other way around."

"Trust me, we are a good team and we'll figure this out", Foreman told him.

* * *

Sam left the room and sat down on a bench nearby. He tried to ignore House but he followed him and took a seat.

"What sort of drugs is your brother on?", he asked him immediately.

Sam looked surprised. "What does this tell you about my leg?"

House smirked.

"I decided to play by the rules and keep the deal. I fix your brother first."

He grabbed Sam's cane and held it next to his own.

"Turning this into "who's got the longest?", Sam wondered.

House frowned. "No, but I win! So, about the drugs?"

Sam sighed.

"He drinks too much. Recently he told me he's been clean for half a year but I never knew what drugs he was on. Probably everything he could get his hands on."

"Like painkillers?", House asked.

Sam shrugged. "Like I said I don't know what he could find."

"Ever missed something from your medicine cabinet at home?", the interrogation went on.

"I'm not on painkillers!", he explained.

"You sure?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Why would I? I mean, I take an aspirin when I got a headache but that's it. "

House got his own pills out and swallowed a Vicodin.

"So, no painkillers after your surgery four weeks ago?"

"Look, my brother moved in with me only two weeks ago. By that time the pain was already gone."

"Ok, if you don't want to help me, fine. The tox screen will reveal it anyway", House mumbled.

Sam took his cane back from House who didn't resist.

"There's probably some acetaminophen left from my recovery. I don't know if I miss any of them. I wasn't home in three days", Sam told him eventually.

Suddenly Foreman approached them to talk to his boss. House got up and followed him a couple of steps.

"We put him on dialysis but we have to hurry. He's jaundiced because his liver gives in."

House cocked his head and thought about this new information.

"Interesting. I think we can skip the tox screen results. Find out if we can save the liver. Give him acetylcysteine to clean out the kidneys."

Foreman frowned. "Won't that damage the liver even more?"

"Doesn't matter. The liver is gone anyway. It's acetaminophen poisoning. Might help to save as many organs as possible."

House turned around to go on with the interrogation but his victim had disappeared.

* * *

While the doctors still treated Andrew and that House guy was busy with his fellow, Sam took the opportunity to find some coffee in the cafeteria. Unfortunately he ran into another curios doctor.

"Excuse me. I know this is inappropriate but can I ask you a question about your leg?", he was asked by the guy standing behind him in line.

"This place is a nut farm!", Sam thought and turned around.

He looked at the name tag on the lab coat. "Why would an oncologist be interested in my leg, Dr. Wilson?"

"I'm not interested as a doctor but as a friend."

"You are not my friend", Sam stated.

"True", Wilson admitted. "Let me buy you some coffee and I'll explain."

"Whatever", Sam mumbled. They got their coffee and sat down at a table.

"See, Dr. House is my friend and I get it he is treating your brother at the moment", Wilson explained.

"Although I get the feeling he shows more interest in my leg. Seems to be a common attitude in this hospital."

"I think he's just curious wether you suffer from the same condition and if you do how you make it through your days", Wilson told him.

"I told him about my knee but still he won't let it go", Sam told him.

"That's probably because he can tell your story isn't true. The way you walk with this cane. Even I can tell it's not your knee that got damaged.

Sam sighed.

"Alright. What's the problem with his leg? If it's the same I got then I talk to him about it", he suggested.

Wilson thought about it. Finally he agreed and told him about House's infarction and the chronic pain that had turned him into an addict.

Sam kept a straight face throughout the entire story. Wilson was usually a talented mind reader but even he couldn't tell whether he hit a nerve or not.

When he was done Sam took the last sip of his coffee and got up.

"Sad story. Poor guy. No wonder he's a jerk. But I can't help you there. I'm not a drug addict and I'm not in pain."

He was about to leave but Wilson held him back.

"But you could tell him you were in pain."

Sam turned around. "What for?"

"To show him that there is a way to handle this without Vicodin."

"You want me to lie to your friend so he feels even crappier about being an addict as he probably already does? Nice friendship you guys have there", Sam told him.

"The Vicodin will sooner or later destroy him. I'm just trying to help him", Wilson defended himself.

"He's a doctor. I guess he knows what's to know about his condition and possible treatments."

"House has no problem with lying. And this could be useful", the oncologist tried again.

"Well I do. And by the way, I got a dying relative up there. So if you excuse me, I'd rather deal with my own problems right now. Thanks for the coffee."

He left the table and the oncologist and went back upstairs.

* * *

Andrew's condition got worse. They could save his kidneys but the liver damage was worse than expected. The acetaminophen had been working in his body for about three days and had now finally shot his liver. He needed a liver transplant. So when Sam returned to Andrew's room, House was already awaiting him.

They ended up on the bench outside the room again.

"Did your brother ever try to kill himself?", House started this time.

"What?"

"Many patients with acute liver failure show intoxication with acetaminophen. And many of them do this on purpose. Maybe he was just sick and tired of being the looser in your family. He whined about your dead brother to my fellows. And then he is all alone because he even made his little brother leave his own place. He finds these pills in the bathroom maybe he was drunk or on drugs…."

Sam looked frightened. "I don't know. I can't tell you much about him. I lost track of him many years ago. Ever since he just showes up in my life at his worst points."

"Well, it doesn't really matter. He shot his liver and needs a new one. Problem is the people who make these decisions are not really keen on giving healthy livers to drug addicts or alcoholics."

"I told you I don't know about his drug use", Sam told him.

"We'll know in a couple of hours. We finally ran the tox screen."

"I could give him part of my liver. It's possible to transplant a part of it, right? We have the same blood typ. That's a good start."

House smirked."If you are a match it would be possible but not for you."

"Why not?"

"Well, I guess you will need your liver yourself. See, painkillers are fun because they take away the pain but they also leave a mess behind in your body. You really want to have a healthy liver when it comes to opiates."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"I am not in pain!", he yelled, "Look, I feel sorry for you and your damaged leg. Must be really hard to live in pain all the time. But you and I, those are two different stories, so please let it go."

"Who told you about my leg?", House wanted to know now with an angry expression on his face.

"If I tell you can we go on with figuring out whether I can donate a part of my liver to Andrew?"

House nodded.

"Good. I forgot his name but he's definitely working in oncology…"

"Wilson!", House mumbled and got up. "I send one of my fellows to draw some blood while I go kill my friend."

* * *

"You told that guy about my leg?", House started after he bursted into Wilson's office without knocking.

The oncologist looked up from his file.

"He told you?", he asked. He understood why Sam refused to lie to House but why would he rattle him out?

House shrugged. "Why wouldn't he? All he wants is his brother to stay alive, he doesn't give a crap about us and our weird friendship."

"Funny. All of a sudden you give a crap about his feelings. Probably not while you were interrogating him about his leg", Wilson mumbled.

"So did you. And you have no right whatsoever to do this. I'm

curious because I'm a cripple myself. You annoyed him because you had to feed your addiction for neediness because you think you can help me."

Wilson looked confused but he had to agree with House. Damn!

"How about we both leave him alone and you concentrate on the brother?", the oncologist suggested.

"Last time you told me to stay away from him you approached him yourself half an hour later!", House blamed him.

"Well, how could I resist? I need the neediness, remember?", Wilson snapped.

House smiled. "Fine, we leave him alone", he said and left the office.

Wilson was sure this meant trouble. Whenever House agreed with him he had to be cautious.

* * *

**I'm not a doctor, so the medical facts might not be accurate. **

**Thank you for reading! Reviews are welcome. :-)**


End file.
